The Art of Breathing

by T. J. Klune

  Maybe I should see what happens with Minerva Fox, after all. But I don’t know if I’d be capable of tucking my dick that far back. I like it right where it’s at.

  Helena moves amongst the crowd, gyrating up and down on pretty much everyone within reach. People hand her ones and tens and twenties, and she gives them sticky kisses on the cheek before reaching down and goosing them.

  She goes on from one to the next, and how she can see anything is beyond me, with the spotlight on her face and the strobe lights flashing. She reaches the back wall, where a large man is standing, his face hidden in shadow. Her movements become stiff and jerky as she steps closer, and as the light slides up the wall, I see it’s Darren, the Homo Jock King, standing alone in the dark. He’s smiling quietly to himself, but then, as if he’s forgotten his place and who he is, a scowl quickly forms as Helena approaches him. She trails her hand along his arm, but there’s nothing sexual about this. He doesn’t give her money. She moves on.

  And before the shadows cover him again, that quiet smile returns as he follows her every move. She doesn’t see it, of course.

  But I do.

  I pull on Dom’s arm to get his attention. He bends over, my mouth near his ear. That hand comes to my back again. I can smell him. Spicy. Warm. His cheek brushes against mine. Accidental. Maybe. I don’t know. Apparently I don’t know a lot of things. “I’ll be right back,” I say.

  “Everything okay?” he rumbles, and I feel the words as well as hear them.

  No. “Yeah,” I say. “Just going to talk to Darren.”

  “What for?” he asks, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there’s a hint of jealousy to his voice.

  Ask him! it howls. Ask him right now! Say it! ARE YOU GAY? DO YOU WANT ME? DO YOU WANT TO FIND SOME BACKROOM AND FUCK OUR BRAINS OUT? ASK HIM, YOU GODDAMN PUSSY!

  “I want to ask him a question about Helena,” I manage to say.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” He touches my back again, and I think there’s another question there.

  I shake my head. “I’ll be right back.”

  He lets me go. Straightens up. Nods. Looks away.

  I’m in the crowd, pushing my way through. Someone grabs my ass hard. Someone else laughs in my face, their breath heavy with drink. The music screams. The lights flash. I almost get to Darren when a hand grabs my wrist and I’m pulled through the crowd and into the light.

  The Queen herself stands before me, eyes blazing. The music crescendos. She trails a finger along my jawline, across my lips. She leans forward. “And just where were you going, little boy?” she breathes, ignoring the music. “To break some hearts, perhaps?”

  “Only yours,” I promise her.

  She laughs. It’s a deliciously wicked sound. “Oh, baby doll. How I wish I could keep you forever and ever. I’d lock you up and never let anyone hurt you again.”

  “I wish that too,” I say. “It’d be easier.”

  “And where’s the fun in that?”

  “Your face is a little red,” I tell her. “Like a fire hydrant. How’s Darren?”

  The smile turns feral. “Did I say keep you? Truly I meant strap you on to a sawhorse and expose that perky little ass of yours and take my time with it. I can promise you that you’ll scream.”

  “I dare you.”

  She pats my cheek. Hard. “Cheeky little twinkie. I’m going to go see what happens when I rub up against your cop.”

  And then she’s gone. My poor cop. He doesn’t know what he’s in for.

  Not that he’s mine. Or anything.

  Whatever. I’m on a mission to meddle. I shall not be deterred.

  I find Darren where I last saw him, hiding in the shadows. I have a feeling that people are usually intimidated by the Homo Jock King, but for some reason, he’s just another supermodel I happen to know in the desert. And I’m not one to shy away from things. Well, most things.

  “Why are you lurking back here?” I ask him above the music.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” he says. “This is the prime lurking location.”

  “It’s kind of creepy.”

  “I’m kind of a creepy guy.” He folds his arms across his chest. The muscles bunch up against his expensive shirt. Light plays across his face, and I know he’s trying to intimidate the fuck out of me, but it’s really not working.

  “I’m going to lurk too,” I say. I lean up against the wall, fold my stick arms across my too-small shirt probably bought at GapKids. “This is lame. Everything is so lame. I’m so cool hiding back here and pretending I don’t want to stick my wiener into a drag queen.”

  “How’s that again?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  “Nothing,” I say innocently. “I just wanted to be one of the cool kids.”

  “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  “Well, yeah. You’re the creepy guy lurking in the corner. Or the Homo Jock King. Or both. That’s quite the title, by the way. Why do you call yourself that?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Oh. Why don’t you ask Sandy out?”

  “Are you always this annoying?”

  “Yes. Answer the question.”

  “Fine,” he says. “As long as I get to ask you one first.”

  What does Paul say? Oh sweat balls. What has Star Wars taught me? It’s a trap. “Fine,” I say, trying to look as bored as he sounds.

  “Why are you leading that cop around by the dick? You a cock tease or something?”

  My arms drop to my sides. “I don’t lead him around.”

  He laughs. It’s a harsh sound. “Bullshit. I met you two this morning, and even I can see he’s boy-pussy whipped over you.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Friends fuck all the time.”

  “I don’t.”

  “So you must not be interested, then. If that’s the case, then maybe you want to get out of here. I can show you what fucking truly looks like.”

  I make a face. “How romantic.”

  “Life isn’t about romance, twinkie.”

  “Your brother found it.”

  He rolls his eyes. “A fluke. It happens, sure. Maybe they’ll last. Maybe they won’t. Maybe one of them will decide to go fuck someone on the side. We’re the products of our parents, after all. You can trust me on that.”

  That hits me hard, but I try not to let him see it. Paul’s words about his father ring in my ears. My mother and his father. Different actions, same response. “Bitter, much?” I ask him. Or myself. I don’t know.

  He cracks a fatalistic smile. “More of a realist.”

  “Then maybe the realist can explain why he’s too afraid to tell Sandy how he really feels. Underneath all that cynicism, of course.”

  “And maybe the nosy little twinkie can tell me why he’s too good for the cop.”

  “I’m not too good for him,” I retort. “I’m not good for him.”

  “Made that decision all on your own, did you?”

  “I….” Well, yes. But when you put it like that, it makes me sound like a sanctimonious prick. Oh shit. God, I hate the Homo Jock King.

  “Twinks,” he snorts. “You’re all the same. Good for a fuck because you know how to work a dick, but you think that gives you power and control. But the truth of the matter is, you’re just a scared little boy who doesn’t know shit. Just like all the rest.”

  “And what does that make you, then?” I ask, trying to keep my anger in check.

  “The one who fucks the little twinks,” he says. “Run along, little twink. Go back to the cop and pretend you don’t know he worships the ground you walk on.”

  “I don’t think I like you much,” I say with a frown.

  “Yeah? Welcome to the club.”

  “But I think you’re just projecting.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ.”

  I shrug. “It’s got to be hard to have to act like a jerk all the time, all high and mighty, only to have lost your heart to a drag queen who despises every fiber of your being.”
Except I really don’t think said drag queen does. I’m so glad I can pick up on all other people’s problems instead of focusing on my own.

  “I didn’t lose jack shit, kid. Go on, get the fuck outta here.”

  Time to go. It’s probably a good time to remember my size and place. He could squash me with one hand, I’m sure. He is the Homo Jock King, after all.

  But, as always, as I move to leave, my mouth moves without any provocation. “You’ll lose him,” I say. “If you don’t take the chance. Someone else will come along and sweep him off his feet, and you’ll be left alone to wonder why you didn’t have the balls to do more to make sure he didn’t belong to anyone else but you.”

  “Funny, that,” he says, cocking his head. “I could say the same thing to you. What the fuck are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Stop being a whiny little flip-flopping bitch and make up your goddamn mind. Or,” he says, getting up in my space, bumping his legs against mine, “maybe I should find out tonight what bacon tastes like. He’s not my type—too big and bulky—but hell, he’s got a mouth and hole I can use. You mind if I borrow him, kid? Not to sweep him off his feet, of course.” He grins. “Well, maybe onto his back.”

  I leave the Homo Jock King behind in the shadows.

  SAGE THE Fifth:

  “I don’t like getting drunk,” Vince tells me after the show. We’re sitting on the back patio, waiting for everyone else to come out. “One time, I got drunk and fell down at a party and somehow my pants came off and it turned into this whole big thing.”

  Well, maybe not quite a sage.

  “That’s… epic,” I say, for lack of anything better.

  “People didn’t seem to mind, which was weird. So, you’re smart, huh?”

  “That’s what I hear. Though I’ve been questioning that more and more.”

  “Huh. I’m not smart.”

  “You seem perfectly smart to me.” Sort of. But who am I to judge?

  “Nah,” he says easily. “I say dumb shit all the time.”

  “So do I. That has nothing to do with intelligence. Trust me on that.”

  Paul pushes his way through the crowd. Vince lights up and pulls him down onto his lap and puts his face into his neck. He whispers something, to which Paul replies, “Yeah, because that worked so well last time. Wheels likes to watch. He’s a sick, twisted pervert.” They laugh with such ease.

  “Dom will be out in a minute,” Paul tells me. “He’s in the bathroom. I need to go back up and help Helena turn back into Sandy. Kori’s up there, so we’ll be a bit if you want to wait.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Or,” Vince says, “you can stay down here with me, and we can go find that corner of the bar to go make out. You know, for old time’s sake. Remember what happened later that night?”

  Paul rolls his eyes but can’t hide the smile. “Maybe later. Scratch that. Definitely later.” He kisses Vince and disappears back into the bar.

  “Butt sex happened later that night,” Vince says to me happily.

  I laugh. “I figured as much. What happened to oversharing?”

  He shrugs. “I figured you were wondering. Couldn’t leave you hanging.”

  How kind. “You love him, huh?”

  “Paul? Oh sure. With all that I’ve got. He’s the only thing I need. I tell him it’s real, and he believes me. What more could I ask for?”

  “Tell him it’s real?”

  “It’s a thing, I guess. Our thing. He didn’t believe me, for whatever reason, when I asked him out the first time. Thought I was playing a joke on him.”

  “Well, I can see that,” I say. “I mean, you’re… you. And he’s….” I don’t know exactly what I’m trying to say. It sounds like it was going to a real shitty place. I’m not like that.

  But neither is Vince. “He’s what?” he asks, sounding confused.

  “He’s what you need, I guess.”

  Vince nods. “That’s a good way to put it. I’m just glad he figured out I wasn’t joking.”

  “Did it take long?”

  “Nah. I wore him down. I can be persuasive when I need to be.”

  “Hit you with his car, did he?”

  “Flew right over it and everything. Also saved his life from choking on spinach, so his life pretty much belongs to me. It’s in good hands, I think.”

  “That’s a Chinese proverb,” I tell him.

  He rolls his eyes. “It’s all Asia. The point is that I gave him his life, and he gave me mine in return. And a family that loves me, just the way I am. I don’t need anything else.”

  “I’m happy for you, Vince. It sounds great.”

  “You going to tell Dom?”

  “Tell him what?”

  Vince grins. “That you love him. Duh.”

  “Shocked” doesn’t even begin to describe me. “Excuse me?”

  “Well, you love him, right? He sure loves you. You guys look at each other like Paul and I do. Sandy and Darren say it’s gross, but they do the same thing.” He frowns. “I’m still working on them. I’ll figure it out. Or they will. Or the world will end. I don’t know which will happen first.”

  It’d be so easy to bullshit, but I think I might be done with that now. “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “I don’t know how to tell him. I did love him, at one point. I don’t know if it’s the same.”

  “Sure seems like it.”

  “Does it?”

  “Why not just say it?”

  “You can’t just say something like that.”

  He looks surprised. “Why not? You know, if people actually said what was in their hearts instead of just overthinking everything in their heads, things would be so much easier.”

  To which I have no retort. Absolutely none at all. Me. A McKenna. Nothing. “You’re pretty smart, you know that? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If they do, you tell them a member of MENSA told you that.”

  He beams at me. “Thank you! That’s awesome of you to say. But isn’t MENSA the group of old gross guys who molests little boys? You probably shouldn’t belong to that. I don’t want you to get molested.”

  “No… that’s…. Vince, that’s NAMBLA.”

  “Oh. Is MENSA Jewish food, then? I don’t know if I’ve ever had Jewish food. I went to Asia and had Asian food, and it wasn’t like Panda Express at all. Everything there had tentacles or used to be a dog, and I felt really bad because I would never cook Wheels. You know? That would just be so wrong and….”

  A BRIEF Intermission from the Sages (And From Real Life In General):

  I go back inside to find Dom to tell him… I don’t know. Something. Anything. He should have been out there by now.

  Do I love him? Fuck if I know.

  Shit. Of course I do.

  I probably never stopped.

  Peachy. This is just fucking peachy. Goddammit.

  I walk into the bar. The dance floor is packed.

  I can see movement up on the balcony.

  Maybe he’s up there.

  I turn the corner.

  He’s standing there, leaning against a wall. Talking to some guy. I watch as he leans in and says something. The other guy laughs. Dom smiles, and I swear I’m back in that hallway, I’m fifteen years old, and I have a present in my hands I want to give him. I just want him to see the story I made him, to show him how I see us, and maybe, just maybe he’ll look at me and say, There you are. Right in front of me this whole time. I don’t know why I’ve never seen it before. But I do now, and I love you. I love you too.

  The guy reaches up and touches his arm. A caress that’s more than friendly.

  It’s what I deserve, really. For taking this long. I should go back outside. Whatever will be will be. Gay, bi, whatever. He’s my friend, and that’s all that matters. I just want him to be happy.

  I turn to leave.

  An explosion of laughter behind me.

  He looks over.

  Our gazes lock.

  I can’t breathe. The earth quakes b
eneath my feet. Everything I’m feeling is splayed across my face, I know, and I can do nothing to hide it. The anger. The jealousy. The fear. Rage and desire, amassing as one.

  He stands up straight.

  Run, I tell myself. Please, run.

  Run, it whispers. Please, run.

  But I can’t. I can’t move. Breathe, Kid. It’s Bear. I can hear him. All other sounds fade away to the voice of my brother.

  Just breathe.

  Dom takes a step toward me, leaving the stranger behind.

  Inhale, Bear says. You can do this. Inhale.

  I breathe in. I almost don’t make it. But I do.

  Good. Hold.

  I can do this. I know I can do this.

  One.

  Dominic pushes past the bar.

  Two.

  Someone bumps my arm.

  Three. Exhale.

  I breathe out.

  Hold.

  Somehow, I do.

  One.

  Dom is almost to me, and I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.

  Two.

  He’s never looked bigger than he does right now. I’m just a little guy.

  Three.

  The roaring sounds of the bar come back.

  “I d-didn’t mean to i-i-interrupt,” I tell him as he reaches me. My voice breaks. “I’m s-s-sorry. I’ll g-g-go and—”

  He kisses me.

  In my tiny little world, in my tiny little brain, everything explodes in colors and shapes and stars, and all I see are stars, and they fill the world until I’m sure everything around us will blow away like so much dust. He moves his lips over mine, gripping the side of my face, and it’s him, it’s him, oh my God, it’s Dom, and he’s got a hold on me like he’ll never let me go, he’ll never let me leave again, and I think to myself, filled with so much wonder, This is nice, but I should probably kiss him back so he doesn’t think it’s like kissing a dead fish. And I do, and it’s awkward and wet and oh so perfect, and when he touches his tongue to mine, I understand fireworks and supernovas and life itself for just one brief, shining moment. This is what life is, these moments of fireworks and exploding stars and synapses blazing. These are the moments that lift us up when we think we can’t take another step. These are the moments that put us back together when we’ve fallen apart. These are the moments that make us whole.